The Contract
by Arcane Aegis
Summary: Ranma's departure from the Joketsuzoku village goes a little bit differently, and a being from another world comes forward with a solution to all of his problems. Ranma's willing to pay the price, but what's the catch? And will it cost him more than he's ready to give? Eventually a double crossover.
1. Three Years Of Pure Misery

Ranma cursed the day he entered the Nyucheizu village. Though it had been years ago, that fateful day was still burned into his memory as the beginning of the insane spiral that his life had fallen into. Some would argue that falling into the Spring of Drowned Girl was the beginning, but that was merely the kick-start to the week from hell. As Ranma lay on a deck chair on the roof of the building, soaking in the sunlight of midday and wishing he wasn't covered in gore, he cast his mind back to what was arguably solid evidence that karma was punishing him for being Adolf Hitler in his past life.

XXX

"Pops, I swear that if we don't eat something soon, we're going to have roast panda for dinner!" If it looks like a panda, walks like a panda, and smells like a panda, it's probably a panda. Unless it's stealing your wallet, in which case it's definitely Genma Saotome. The furry beast walking next to Ranma cuffed the girl on the back of the head with one massive furry paw, not bothering to keep his claws sheathed as he did so. The neo-panda wasn't quite fast enough to dodge a left hook from his daughter, which knocked him back into a tree. Stars and little shogi pieces orbited his head at eye level, confusing the dazed man.

He allowed his long-term concerns to wash over his mind, occluding the pain with slowly growing panic. Ranma's current gender posed two problems, the more obvious being that he couldn't marry one of Soun's daughters in such a state. While Ranma was (hopefully) still male on the inside, there was no way Soun would hold to his part of the bargain if it came to marrying Akane, Nabiki or Kasumi to a girl. At the rate things were going, if they didn't starve to death in the wilderness of Qinghai province, the schools were never going to be united! A tear of sadness escaped his eye, in no way related whatsoever to the chain of chamber punches Ranma was firing into his gut.

The other was far more insidious, and the mere thought of it sent phantom pain through Genma's belly as an imaginary katana ripped his intestines to bloody shreds. Nodoka Saotome was hardly a martial artist by any standards; even her once-great skills with a kodachi had deteriorated over the years. However, she was still the greatest stickler for family, tradition, and bushido he'd ever met. It was part of why he'd married her… because if their parents hadn't engaged them, Nodoka wouldn't have touched Genma with a ten-foot pole. Their child was the only source of joy for the both of them, and when Genma asked to take a training trip with the young Ranma, Nodoka was understandably reluctant.

To alleviate her fears, Genma had drawn up a crude document explaining that he would return his son as a perfect 'man amongst men,' vague enough that all parties would be satisfied in the end, barring something catastrophic. Unfortunately, turning a man-among-men into a girl, of all things, fell squarely into that category. He was, without a doubt, fucked. And not in the 'hello honey, it's been a decade,' sort of way, either.

"Pops!" Ranma roared, enraged that Genma wasn't even giving her attention while she beat the stuffing out of him. The rotund martial arts master casually belted Ranma backwards, the blow using all of his strength in the absence of mentally monitoring his power. "You're getting lazy, boy," he sneered in his mind, but out loud he growled something unintelligible. Ranma mumbled incoherently and passed out, her head buried in a tree trunk.

Genma regarded her with a faint feeling of disgust, but the smell of something delicious reached his heightened sense of smell. Desperately hungry from scavenging inadequate meals in the forest, the panda left Ranma to recover by herself and followed his nose. The tree branches whipped back and forth as he lumbered towards the tantalizing scent, but they hardly bothered him in the throes of starvation. He burst from the trees into a grassy clearing at a dead run, the grass and dirt crunching into deep pawprints beneath his heavy stride. Not one to question a buffet of meat and fruits left on a table in the middle of nowhere, the panda launched himself at the table headfirst and literally buried himself in perfectly prepared food. It resembled a dream of his he'd had several times over the past few years. Now all he needed was Nodoka wearing some lingerie…

Ranma trailed after her father at a distance, rubbing her forehead and swearing heavily. Her eyebrow was bleeding down her face, staining one sheer bright red, and the middle of her forehead was bruising a nice sort of fuchsia. Lovely colour, when it wasn't your face. She grunted and searched in her pockets for bandages, but none were forthcoming. The news somehow made the pain even worse, adding to the constant throbbing of the scar on her left forearm and an ache in her vagina that refused to go away. Ranma was used to the former, and could bear the split skin, but the latter scared her. She was reasonably scared of pretty much anything that reminded her of her new gender, and it just _had_ to be pain, the way her luck ran.

A few minutes later, Ranma stumbled out into the clearing after her dad with one hand pressed against her forehead and a wicked headache coming on. Not to mention the roaring pain from not eating well for the last few days, and the neo-girl was reaching her breaking point. Vastly annoyed, she pulled a thorn from her inner thigh and toughed the pain as her skin was shredded by the remorseless edge. A vein in her temple began to swell with blood, lending her face a nervous twitch. Ranma was on the verge of breaking into hysterical laughter and simply smashing her way out of the forest Ryoga-style, when the sounds of unmitigated gluttony reached her.

Genma was swimming in a pile of food that reached up to his shoulders, the table it had previously rested on broken into splinters by the weight of a wild panda slamming into it with all its weight. Her dad's massive jaw stopped crunching as he caught sight of Ranma staring at him with a decidedly dangerous glint in her eye, and he nervously waved the drumstick in a gesture Ranma recognized well, and oddly enough hardly looked out of place on a panda.

"Whatever t-the hell th-this is, old man, I-I'm gonna'-" Ranma began, but was interrupted by a thrown weapon whizzing past her face. It narrowly missed the tip of her nose and continued on to bury itself in a tree up to a crudely carved hilt. Ranma blinked, once in shock and once in anger, and slowly turned to face the offending party in the opposite direction. She wore a pair of red overalls and a tight purple shirt that hugged her breasts and showed off the raised lines of a sports bar underneath. A pair of wide metal spheres were tucked into her belt, as well as several wood-handled bowie knives. She wore no shoes, had dark purple hair, her right hand was extended in a completed throw, and her face was contorted into a furious snarl. As soon as Ranma looked at her she burst into rapid-fire Mandarin shouting, less than half of which was understood.

Ranma's expression of anger morphed into one of disbelief. The Chinese girl was in full-rant mode now, screaming Cantonese obscenities and gesturing at the collapsed table that was no longer piled quite so high with food. As she raged, the girl pointed first at the food, then herself, then the confused martial artist before her. Ranma took a second to put it together, then she too was filled with anger. "That was my pops!" she shouted back, interrupting the other girl. The Chinese Amazon, probably for the first time, realized that there was a severe language barrier between them.

Ranma sighed in exasperation and held up one hand. She waved her hand to indicate trying again, then cleared her throat. **"This one not do… this,"** she explained as best she could. She hadn't put any time into studying the Chinese language, but you had to pick some up after three years abroad. The other girl raised an eyebrow in arrogant disbelief, but Ranma soldiered on. **"Was father. Fat man, look like panda,"** she said, remembering the word from the name of the Jusenkyo spring that had befallen the bespectacled man. **"He eat food and…"** Ranma cast around, but it seemed that Genma was employing his bastardized shinobi training to disappear.

The other fighter shook her head in amusement. **"It doesn't matter if it was or wasn't,"** she said, slow enough for Ranma to understand. **"You are his daughter, his crimes fall to you. This was **_**my**_** prize, and you have stolen it!"**

**"Prize?"** Ranma asked, confused, and the other girl angrily waved at a lineup of bruised, battered and beaten girls lounging in the sun. A log suspended betwixt a pair of tree trunks by cable-like vines was covered in the barest traces of blood, and Ranma began to put the puzzle together. The food was the prize in some sort of competition that this girl just won, and Genma had righteously pissed her off by digging in. Whatever backwater city-state they'd wandered into probably had the death penalty for pretty much everything, too.

'_Wait a minute…'_ she thought, a lemon-sucking grimace spreading across her face. **"You win, yes?"** she asked, and the other girl nodded in agreement. Ranma barked out a short laugh. **"I challenge you!"** she proclaimed, the phrase having it worn itself into her mouth in at least four languages. **"I win, you give me food."**

The girl eyed Ranma's starving frame and deduced that this starving waif was desperate for food of any kind, and would have likewise eaten mouldy bread as the coveted tournament prize. It would be merciful to defeat her quickly and send her packing with exactly that, and a malicious smirk crossed her features. **"Agreed,"** she said, and bounded back onto the challenge log. Ranma walked leisurely, swiping a handful of lychee fruit while her back was turned. The redhead swung herself up to meet her buxom foe, mentally preparing herself to give every effort in pursuit of the prize, and also, hopefully, avoiding being lynched.

_'This is going to be too easy,'_ the Amazon thought, drawing both chúi and settling into a long horse stance, one arm low and the other high. Ranma switched form her relaxed state to a high, mobile crane stance. She flipped her pigtail over one shoulder and, daring the other to strike first, spat at her feet. The warrior saw red and attacked, leaping forward with one knee raised, her warhammers outstretched, but Ranma ducked low to the log and shot forward as fast as she could, malnutrition combined with the exertion giving her vertigo. Nevertheless, Ranma managed to stay on the challenge log, and the twin hammers slammed into the musky wood on the other end. Their positions were reversed now, in more ways than one. They were now on opposite sides, and Ranma was on the offensive while the native teenager remained cautious.

**"What are you-"** she began to say, but Ranma shuffled forward and began firing jabs with her back hand to test her defenses. A mix of wushu and weaponry easily parried the attacks, though their sheer speed coupled with the fact that the redhead hadn't broken a sweat yet made the villager nervous. She spotted a gap in Ranma's flying fists and lashed out with a chúi for Ranma's head. The Japanese neo-girl blocked by chopping at her elbow, but enough force remained behind the blow to clip Ranma's temple and knock her silly. Ranma stumbled back, her fists pressed against her bleeding forehead and mumbling obscenities that made some of the more worldly leaders on the ground wince.

**"Not so tough, are you?"** the Chinese girl taunted, pleased that such a weak blow was hardy enough to score a telling hit. Ranma coiled her back leg like a spring and jumped forward, her forearms blocking her head while leaving both legs free to hammer kicks into the other fighter's chest and legs. She backed up carefully, allowing Ranma to expend her energy on futile attacks and wasted jibes that she could barely understand anyways. Then, Ranma flashed forwards and feinted at her chest. As she went to block, Ranma reversed the strike with such speed that she could hardly see it move and boxed her ear. Her vision quivering, the Chinese girl's hair was wound tightly around Ranma's fist. "Lessee how good ye' are up close!" Ranma spat, and proceeded to demolish the hapless girl with a devastating barrage of uppercuts and quarter punches that started inside both their guards and pushed all of the villager's limbs away while desensitizing sensitive targets like the kidneys and solar plexus to the damage.

After thirty seconds of curb-stomp, Ranma shoved the other girl away from her and casually started peeling a lychee's red skin off and dropping the peels on the ground. The lavender-haired fighter reeled back, her insides screaming in protest, and with a screech of defeat she fell to the ground, where she lay still. Two of her tribeswomen ran up to her to check her vitals, and when it was deemed that she was okay, the entire clearing full of women turned their gazes to Ranma like a pack of owls. The pigtailed girl discarded the last of the peel and ate the fruit whole, not tasting the white flesh on her tongue as she mechanically chewed and swallowed.

One of the girls who was well-versed in Japanese stepped forward and said, "Congratulations, stranger. You've won the enmity of _Xian Pu_. We laud your skills as master of the art, but it would be better for your health if you started running before our sister awakens."

Ranma didn't respond, other than to take out another fruit and begin peeling that one as well. Not far off, behind a circle of sharpened logs banded together into a wall, a plume of smoke billowed out a chimney in a sudden burst, like miniature mushroom cloud. The sight reminded Ranma's of how terribly, terribly empty she was. She glanced down at the half-peeled fruit and ate it on a whim, skin and all. It shredded her throat on the way down. "W-water," she choked out, falling on her ass and swinging her legs over the side of the log. "O-oh Kami I-I need water." The last words were the wheezing rasp of a dying soldier.

**"For the love of the sun, she just won a banquet and she's dying of thirst?"** somebody cried. **"We should help her!"**

**"Yeah, but that'll just make Xian Pu's job harder," **someone else called out. Apparently, the majority opinion was that this 'Shampoo' could bloody well take care of herself, so two green-haired girls seized the insensate champion by her wrists and ankles and hauled her off to their village, leaving the crowd behind. They carried her the distance back to Nyucheizu slung between each other, but broke off at the gate to the village. The taller of the two ran off to the well at the centre of the village to draw water, and the other put Ranma down on the grass. The Amazon girl stripped the pigtailed martial artist's muddy gi top off, followed by the red shirt underneath, and quickly assessed the damage.

Her sister came back a few seconds later, toting a bucket of water. She knelt down next to Ranma's head and tipped the bucket next to her mouth, allowing a few mouthfuls of cool water to slosh down Ranma's throat. She gurgled faintly as the life-giving liquid slid through her insides, and passed out from exertion.

**"This is strange,"** commented the first girl. "**Her chest is covered in whiplash markings, and there are a few bruises on her arms from the fight, but these look like panda claws!**" She indicated a few sets of deep holes on her left forearm and right flank. "**And these are just plain weird!"** Red half-moon gouges covered the sides and top of Ranma's breasts, exposing the pale fat underneath. "**What the hell was she doing before she came here?"**

The second girl brushed her hair out her her eyes to see better, then frowned. She reached out delicately and pulled a clump of hair out of the thick fabric of the gi. Some were black, some were white, and one was red. **"Yup, it's a panda alright," she** confirmed, tossing the hair away. **"So, crazy bitch with no food fighting a plant-eating bear in the middle of the mountains, and also trying to scratch her boobs off. We gotta nutcase here!"** The other girl shot her an exasperated look. **"We don't **_**know**_** that," she said. "For all we know, there's a perfectly logical reason for all of this." **Her friend snorted. **"Yeah, **_**right**_**."**

**"I will be the judge of that, young ones," **came an aged voice from behind them. Both Amazons jumped in shock and spun around to see the matriarch of Nyucheizu, Ku Lon, balanced on her gnarled staff. The withered crone didn't waver on her precarious perch, a testament to her tremendous skill and strength. The young Amazon warriors both fell to one knee and bowed their heads in reverence. **"Elder Ku Lon, what is your bidding?"** they said in unison, to which the matriarch sighed. **"Stand,"** she commanded wearily. **"I have had a long day, and I would rather that we speak without the kowtowing."**

She pointed at the prostrate, unconscious form of Ranma. **"Did this woman truly defeat my great-granddaughter?"** she asked. Both of them responded at once. **"It was a long and grand battle,"** the first proclaimed, **"and Xian Pu was weakened from the fighting earlier today!"** At the same time, the second said, **"Yup. She had her going for a bit there, but then this chick stepped in and wiped the floor with her."**

Ku Lon looked at the sorry state of the girl who was supposedly the first challenger to win in over a century, and decided that there was some truth to the rumors that the airheaded Zha Kin had been spreading about the Japanese redhead from the forest who waltzed in and, half starved, defeated Xian Pu. **"I see you're taking care of her,"** she noted, and the first girl beamed with pride. **"You know it's been my dream to become a healer,"** she said demurely.

Ku Lon thought for a moment on what etiquette dictated be done. **"Take her to your home, Fang,"** she finally said. **"You are to look after this woman until both she and my great-granddaughter are well enough for the kiss of death to be performed. I suspect that this will be tomorrow."** Fang bowed her head and murmured acceptance, and Ku Lon bounced away, launching off of every available surface using her oversized cane as a vaulting aid.

**"Why do I have the sinking feeling that this is gonna blow?"** Fang's sister asked to nobody in particular. Fang sighed. **"Don't worry about it, Mao. Ku Lon's orders are to be obeyed, not questioned."**

Mao looked at Ranma, then at the gate of the village where Ku Lon was searching the surrounding fields for signs of Xian Pu's approach. **"Is it just me,"** she said rhetorically, **"or does she look eager?"**

XXX

Ranma awoke feeling much better than she had in days. She wasn't wearing a shirt, which was a little confusing to her, but as she sat up on her cot and regained the feeling in her skin, she realized that an ointment had been rubbed into her wounds to alleviate the pain and help with healing. She wasn't thirsty anymore, but skipping lunch and dinner yesterday wasn't doing her any favors. "Where am I?" she asked, her voice a quiet croak. It was a bungalow, made with modern materials mixed together with the odd touch of rustic décor, such as the glass coffee table with a black-and-white television and a clay mug of steaming coffee.

"Good morning," came a voice from the kitchen in the next room. A girl with cerulean hair and a warm smile sauntered in. "I am Fang," she said in slightly accented Japanese, "and I am looking after you for the time being. Please, you must eat breakfast. Your body is nearing collapse from malnutrition." She held out a plate with a few eggs and a sausage on it, as well as a glass of water, and Ranma viciously tore into it like a man possessed. Fang watched in amusement as the food disappeared into the planetary black hole located in Ranma's abdomen.

"Feeling better, yes?" she asked, and Ranma nodded. "Thanks for all the help, but you missed some of the blood," Ranma said, pointing at her groin. Two or three days ago, something inside of her had torn, and the resulting stream of blood was staining her underwear as fast as she could change it, and the smell was starting to get on her nerves. "You're having your period, but you don't have any cloths?" Fang asked, then shook her head. "Never mind, I have extras."

"Wait, this happens to everyone?" Ranma asked, confused but not surprised that there were aspects to being a girl that she didn't understand yet. Fang gave her a look that clearly said _'don't be a fucking idiot.'_ "Wait here, please," she said, and left. Ranma examined the rest of her bare upper body, pleased to note that most of her minor pains had gone away, save the scar on her forearm, which she had gotten used to years ago. She also noticed that seeing herself naked no longer turned her on, though her feelings on that were divided.

"Here," said Fang, coming back into the room and offering a square of fabric to Ranma. She took it and stared, trying to divine its use through observation. It looked like it was supposed to stopper up her vagina, somehow, but for the life of her Ranma had no idea what the hell she had gotten into. Fang looked away politely, and Ranma quickly stuffed the pad in her pocket and pretended that she had used it. "Uhh… thanks for the food an' all, but I gotta go find pops, make sure he doesn't go sell me into slavery again or somethin'." The nonchalance with which Ranma suggested it made Fang think it had happened before.

"I'm sorry, miss…?"

"Ranma. Ranma Saotome."

"I'm terribly sorry, Ranma, but I have been ordered to keep you here until our council sends for you. Nyucheizu has some fairly specific laws pertaining to combat with outsiders, and a tribune has been called to determine how to proceed."

Ranma snorted. "Yeah, laws doin' with outsiders? That's my cue to get the hell outta Dodge, sister. Bed and breakfast was great, shame you had to go and ruin it." She hauled herself to her feet and stretched her arms wide, subconsciously assuming a short back stance. "Out of the way. Now." Fang, who was more of a healer than a fighter, immediately stepped aside. "I warn you, this is a mistake," she said quietly, but Ranma ignored her and left anyways. The one-story home was fairly small, so finding the door was a cinch. Sadly for Ranma, the Joketsuzoku had the presence of mind to leave a pair of guards at the door. The older women, both wearing tanned leather armour and heavy bronze boots, turned to face Ranma and unsheathed their swords in tandem.

The pigtailed girl backed up a few steps and meekly raised her hands in surrender. "Hey guys," she said jokingly. "How've ya' been? Good t' see you again!"

"It is indeed a pleasure to meet the warrior who bested my heir and descendant," came a voice from behind her. Ranma spun around, her chest swaying enticingly, and was met by the tiny yet intimidating stature of Ku Lon. The elder wore a dark blue dress and had put her luxuriously long white hair into a braid. She was balanced on her ever-present staff, a scroll case in her left hand. "AAAH!" Ranma screamed, instinctively trying to kill the Joketsuzoku matriarch with a heavy overhand chop. The hag responded by leaping off of her staff with preternatural agility and smashing it over Ranma's head with enough force to shatter a boulder. Ranma fell back, merely stunned.

"I am Ku Lon," she said threateningly, "and you would do well to remember the name."

"Alright Ku- K- Kool… uh, Cologne?"

Cologne sighed. "Close enough, child. I suppose you can be forgiven for your imperfect grasp of our language."

"Right," Ranma said hesitantly. "So, you're in charge?"

"I am."

"Can we get this over with? I have to catch up to my pops and beat the shit out of him, and by now he's probably in Hong Kong looking for the harbour."

Cologne laughed. "I fear that this may be an inconvenience to you, **gweilo**, but we have much to discuss. Namely, your victory in our ceremonial rite of passage."

Ranma's understanding of the term Cologne used to address him with equated its meaning to that of gaijin, but in all honesty he could think of worse nicknames than 'ghost man.' "Ceremony? You mean, I'm gonna' become a god?"

"No."

"Sacrificed to a god?"

"No."

"Accepted into your tribe with no hard feelings?"

"Hardly!"

"Beaten to within an inch of my life and thrown off of a cliff?"

"That comes closer." Cologne cleared her throat. "Perhaps you and Fang might come with me to my home? It might be easier to explain the situation with both you and my great-granddaughter present. Little alarm bells were going off in both Fang's and Ranma's minds, but they cooperated nonetheless. They walked behind the shrunken woman through the Joketsuzoku village, shame burning through Fang and curiosity through Ranma.

She lead the younger girls to a towering cliff face, to the base of a waterfall toppling from the heavens to a small pool at the base and trickling away downhill. "This way," Cologne said curtly, and jumped straight through the wall of water. Fang followed suit, though she did not have cologne's agility. Instead, she hopped across a series of stepping stones lined up along the pool's bottom and vanished behind the wet curtain. _'Seems easy enough,'_ Ranma thought, searching for the entrance. When she spotted the shadowy outline on the rock face, she bunched her muscles tightly and hurtled across the pond.

From within the home of the Joketsuzoku matriarch, there was heard a resounding crash, followed by a torrential rain of anatomical impossibilities that turned Fang's ears bright red. Cologne chuckled at the protégé healer's discomfort. A few seconds later, a sopping wet and irritated Ranma hauled herself through the portal and lay still on the stone floor, her pigtail plastered to her forehead. "Never again," she promised, "will I ever jump at a shadow and expect it to hold still. Nasty dirtbags, not even real."

"Please stop procrastinating, **gweilo**, we have much to do in little time."

**"Hello, bastard. Glad to see you're fine, because I'm right as rain!"** Ranma's head lolled to one side, revealing the sideways body of Shampoo, looking vibrant, healthy, _fed_, and steaming mad. Ranma rolled to her feet and faced the three Chinese women with no little trepidation. "So, uh… what can I do for you?" she asked.

Shampoo stepped forward slowly, her hands by her sides and a seductive swagger in her step. She walked directly up to Ranma, so close their breasts were touching, and leaned in. By now, Ranma was sweating in nervous anxiety, but the steel glare of the Joketsuzoku elder kept her rooted to the spot. Fang rolled her eyes at the theatrics.

Shampoo suddenly smashed her lips against Ranma's, her wide hazel eyes gazing deeply into Ranma's icy blue ones with an unreadable emotion. Ranma tried to pull away from the unexpected action, but Shampoo slipped one hand behind her head and held it in place.

**"That's a little extreme, don't you think?"** Fang commented, and Cologne hhmph'd. **"Xian Pu was always one for theatrics."** Case in point, the tongue was probably overkill, as by now Ranma was moaning and no longer trying to push the amorous teenager off of her. Shampoo stepped back, still holding Ranma's gaze, and calmly tried to run her through. Ranma twisted her torso around the thrust of the short sword, her conscious thought overruled by practical experience. The attack had too much commitment, and Shampoo's other hand hadn't yet returned to a guard position.

With a swift open handed chop, Ranma hit Shampoo's temple hard enough to black her out. The lavender-haired girl fell to the ground, the long-handled dao slipping from her grip. Ranma glimpsed her back, which had a pair of crossed butterfly knives on it, as she fell. Fang seemed rather surprised at the turn of events, while Cologne seemed to have expected it. As soon as she was reasonably certain that the last thirty seconds weren't an extremely detailed hallucination involving her two favourite things, Ranma was asking questions.

Cologne held up one hand and waited for Ranma to quiet, allowing the redhead's torrent of interrogatives to die off. "It is our law, as a nation, to kill you for the crime of defeating one of our females. It is especially dire in that you have won our coming-of-age championship, but the fact remains that you must die by my great-granddaughter's hand, without aid."

Ranma frowned. "How's that gonna work? I kicked her ass once, what makes you think the second time's gonna be any different?" Fang rolled her eyes at Ranma's directness.

"A fair question, **gweilo**," Cologne said evenly. "Usually it is, and we shall leave it at that. Would that I could intervene, you would not draw breath right now." Somehow, the threat coming from the ancient hag made shivers run up Ranma's spine, and her gut told her that the elder could make good on her promise. "However, it is Shampoo's duty to kill you, no matter the cost, and kill you she shall."

"Oh really, old ghoul?" The words were out before she'd even thought of them, a classical example of the hereditary Saotome bluntness. The wooden staff flashed forward and connected with Ranma's head with a solid _clunk_, followed by an ironically hollow noise. "You belligerent fool!" Cologne hissed, returning to her position atop the walking aid and fighting implement. "You are three hundred years too young to jest at my stature, whelp!"

_'Okay, gweilo is okay, but what the hell is a _whelp_?'_

"Listen, get to the point or I'm gonna take my chances with your walking stick of doom." Fang winced at the sort of disrespect that had beaten out of her at a young age. This foreigner was reminding her more of her sister every minute.

"Since Shampoo clearly cannot best you in direct combat," Cologne said reluctantly, albeit with an implicit _'yet'_, "she will utilize our most reviled and deadly attack: the Three Year Smile of Death."

Ranma was understandably confused by the whole scenario, so Fang explained. "This technique," she said urgently, "she will follow you to the ends of the earth, all the while appearing serene and friendly. However, every negative feeling she has towards you, and there are doubtless many, will collect in her belly until she is filled with rage and will kill you! You must leave, now!"

Ranma turned to run for her life, but Cologne's staff caught her by the shoulder. "Not so fast, either of you. As Shampoo will be staying with you for the foreseeable future, Fang will go also."

"What?"

**"What?"**

Cologne smiled, and there was a distinct gleam of schadenfreude in her eyes. **"Fang, it will do you good to see the world and our tribe's foreign relations. Officially, you will be traveling with Shampoo to provide moral support and first aid during her three years abroad. You leave as soon as Gweilo does."**

** "Of course, Matriarch,"** Fang ground out, contemplating using the Three Year Smile of Death herself. Shampoo pulled herself off of the floor, stood at attention, and waited in silence for thirty seconds. After the brief meditation, she turned to Ranma and smiled angelically. "Hello, **Airen,**" she said, a glazed look in her amber eyes. Fang looked at the starstruck Shampoo, the terrified Ranma, and the implacable Cologne, and did the smart thing. She grabbed Ranma by the wrist and ran out of the cave, cursing her luck and her ancestors, Ranma trailing behind and Shampoo not far behind.

_'Ah,'_ Cologne thought, with no little degree of satisfaction, _'to be young again.'_

XXX

Fang had a suitcase slung over one shoulder, with a few weeks worth of clothes and toiletries, as well as her savings in RMB, Ranma's meager stash of yen, and two passports. Shampoo had something similar in hand, and was currently sprinting for the gates to the village. Ranma's brain was still stuck in bluescreen mode, so it fell to Fang to drag the redhead along behind her. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, idly wondering if it would stick out too much in Japan, then took off at a full sprint with Ranma in tow, drool hanging out the corner of her mouth. Maybe Cologne hit the poor girl too hard?

Shampoo vaulted over the village gates easily and set after them, her long legs striding over familiar ground. If you could read her mind, it would have been blank, as it would remain for the next thirty-six months. The anger and hate festering in her gut would break free in due time, but for now she was content to wield the hammer of fate against the redheaded fighter. Already her fiendishly clever mind was cycling through the various, devious little ways to sate her anger until the day her might was concentrated enough to flatten Ranma like the crimson bug she was. Sh couldn't help the childish giggle of delight that escaped her lips, but then she was off in pursuit of her prey.

The village guards, a man and a woman, were distracting themselves from the monotony of their post by fervently making out near the gate. They had gone unnoticed by the panicking Fang, the spaced-out Ranma, the determined Shampoo, and it seemed that this was to be their fate with the fourth and final evacuee of Nyucheizu. Four meters to the left of the front entrance, something blasted a hole in the wall, kicking up a dust cloud. The infatuated Amazons pulled away quickly and pretended nothing was out of the ordinary on _their_ end. A tall man with long black hair and opaque glasses came through the breach, wielding an unloaded dart rifle and a white training potty in the shape of a swan. **"Enemies of my love!"** Mousse cried, waving the swan-shaped receptacle like a mace. **"How dare you steal away my Xian Pu?"**

**"Oh great, it's the idiot,"** the man muttered, turning and walking back to guarding the now-redundant gate.

**"Well,"** the girl said, taking up position by the new entrance, **"at least Mu Tsu's leaving. Can't complain about that, eh?"**

**"You traitor! You vile foreigner! I shall see you punished, so I may reclaim the love my my darling Xian Pu!"** Mousse ran off into the sunset after Shampoo, his white robes spilling weapons and mundane items as he ran, more than what the laws of physics suggested might be able to fit in them in the first place. A few minutes later, he was gone too.

**"So... should we tell Ku Lon that he has left?"**

**"... no."**


	2. That Which Is Glitter

Fang and Ranma negotiated their way down slope and out of the Jusenkyo nation's territory before nightfall of the first day. They made camp near a small stream, Ranma having brought a two-man tent with her into the village. Fang watched, feeling rather useless as her Japanese companion lit a small campfire on a stack of twigs and put on a pot of water. Fang had brought enough meat for a week of traveling, and then they would have to stop for supplies.

Fang was already plotting a course in her mind, one that took them past the Musk village of Gunsu for additional supplies, then south for a more modern settlement, one that had a railway line. From there, Fang estimated that she had enough money to buy a train ticket to the east coast, a journey that would hopefully shake Shampoo off of their trail. She doubted it, though. Shampoo's reputation as a skilled huntress was not earned through lack of tracking skills, and the two of them only had a two-hour head start. While Ranma didn't seem to show any signs of tiring soon, Fang was already exhausted after half an hour of jogging downhill.

"What are you doing?" she asked, watching Ranma stick one finger in the pot of water. The redhead swirled it around, then shook her head and sat back. "It's not hot enough yet," she explained. "I'll go set up the tent while you get dinner ready. Make sure you don't use too much of the meat."

_'Didn't you just say it wasn't hot enough yet?'_ Fang wondered, but nevertheless pulled out her satchel and started skinning a rabbit. It was a thin, stringy little animal, caught in a snare two days ago, but may very well have been dying of hunger even before that. It was monotonous work, and Fang allowed her mind to wander as she pulled the fur and pelt off of the rabbit's corpse. She knew exactly why she had been sent with Shampoo and Ranma, and it wasn't because Cologne thought it would be good for her. It was a punishment assignment, because in healing Ranma Fang had made Shampoo's job harder. It was absurd, but the revered Matriarch of Joketsuzoku had enough healers in her forces that a mere apprentice would not make too much of a difference. If Fang were to guess, she would say that Cologne intended for her to be caught in Shampoo's eventual burst of rage, though to gainsay her leader was tantamount to treason.

Ranma hammered the last spike into the rocky ground with her prodigious strength, the rusty iron splitting the hard earth in two. She returned to the campfire and sat down again, remaining unusually quiet for her generally boisterous self. Ranma was seeing the whole situation with a sort of detachment that Genma had warned her would eventually happen. Something about battle stress, maybe?

"Something on your mind?" Fang asked, dropping a few handfuls of stringy rabbit meat into the stew.

"Yeah, you could say that." Ranma leaned forward and stuck her finger in the water again. This time, there was a brief flash of what Fang could only call whiteness, and in Ranma's place was a much taller boy. His hair was black and pulled back into an identical pigtail, and he now filled out his clothes much better than the smaller, thinner girl he used to be.

"W-what?" Fang stuttered, confused.

"That's what I thought too," Ranma chuckled, cracking his knuckles. "It's a curse I picked up at some place called Jusenkyo." Seeing the recognition flutter across her face, he felt relieved that a massive explanation wasn't required. "If you've heard of it, then I suppose you understand the problem I'm having."

_'Oh, that's just sad. If I remember right, hot water changes you back, so he must be a boy. And having… his… period? Ahh, gotta be awkward. No wonder she was so angry back at the village.'_ Fang smiled slightly. "There's some good news after all, then!"

Ranma raised one eyebrow. "The execution," she said. "The rule only applies to outsider women. If you're a man, Shampoo doesn't have to kill you."

"That seems far too easy," he said offhandedly. "You want me to just walk up to her and say, 'Hey, I'm not really a girl?'"

"Well," Fang said, colouring a bit, "she doesn't have to _kill_ you, she has to _marry_ you. Obviously, killing men is a waste, and marrying women is just… _wrong_."

Ranma nodded in agreement. "I don't think I'm going to do that, but thanks for the advice. If she doesn't know I'm really a man, Shampoo won't even look at me twice, and we can just go back to Japan while she does her thing here for the next three years. Then, you go home and I can get on with my life."

"There's some problems with that plan," Fang pointed out. "She knows we're going to Japan, and what do you think will happen when she looses her shit and you aren't there to clean up the mess?"

"Damn," Ranma cursed. "Nothing is ever simple with people living in the mountains."

Fang smiled wryly. "You're telling me? This is the first time I've ever left the boundaries of our nation before, and now I'm crossing the ocean to a different country. It's a little intimidating, to be honest."

"At least you know Japanese," Ranma said. "Better than my Cantonese, anyways."

**"You bet, gweilo!"** she taunted, and Ranma sneered. **"Here this one is outsider, but in Japan you are **gaijin**, Fang."**

Fang wilted. "Never mind, then," she decided.

They ate their dinner in silence, extinguished the fire, and retired to their tent. That night, Shampoo came up on their campsite. She crept carefully over the fire pit and peered through the mesh door to the tent. Inside, Fang was lying with one arm over a half-naked man, his face away from Shampoo. She shook her head in sadness. _'You're too easy,'_ she thought uncharitably, and bounded away through the dark forest in search of her 'Airen.'

The next day, Fang awoke first and was mortified to find herself draped over Ranma. She carefully extricated herself from his body, praying that he wouldn't wake, and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he hardly stirred. There was a light pattering noise coming from every direction, which Fang recognized as rain. Her traveling companion was to be female today, and that meant that Shampoo had a much larger chance of finding them.

Ranma refused to wake up until an hour later, when Fang grew so infuriated with his oblivious disregard to her shouting his name that she kicked him in the shoulder. It was a light tap by her standards, and should've barely registered on a hardcore martial artist, but the next thing she knew Fang was on her back with Ranma holding her arm in a hammerlock. After an oblique apology and a halfhearted slap on the back 'for being a good sport,' Ranma walked out into the rain and had a conniption.

They didn't encounter Shampoo between there and Gansu, a minor blessing if ever there was one. The Musk town was more of a fortress, protected on one side by a mountain, another by a lake, and the other two by high stone walls littered with crenels and murder holes. The imposing architecture didn't give a hint as to what lay behind the wall, though they were soon to find out.

Fang approached the gate with Ranma following close behind, having agreed to let the native do the talking. The entrance to Gansu was a small oak door with a primitive shack serving as a guard station. Fang knocked on the door to the hut and waited until a man with thick, green tinged skin and a snub nose poked his head out. **"Yeah?"** he asked, peering down at the two girls standing in the rain. Fang recovered rather quickly, having almost expected the legend to be true, and quickly answered. **"Greetings. I am Fang of the Joketsuzoku, and this is my companion. We will be traveling to the coast together, and have need of supplies to last a fortnight."**

The alligator man eyed them suspiciously. **"We don't get too many visitors 'round here,"** he grunted. **"How do I know you aren't Amazon assassins?"**

**"Me? Amazon? You're joking,"** Ranma said. She found that it was quite easy to pull off sarcasm with a limited vocabulary. Fang kicked her in the shin; she ignored it. The Musk warrior laughed. **"Nah, you don't. Alright, our merchants are just on the left inside the gate. Keep your heads down, don't talk back, and you two lovely girls will be fine."** He barked something in an obscure dialect, and the wooden door opened with no visible means of propulsion. Thoroughly unsettled, Fang ventured into the Musk Dynasty, Ranma behind her.

They found themselves in a stone tunnel that lead on a ways. "What was with that guy?" Ranma asked, wondering if there was some local etiquette that dealt with these people.

"They are the Musk. If the legends are true, and I believe they are, their ancestors used the Cursed Springs at Jusenkyo to make their brides of animals. Of course, that was almost a century and a half ago, and they don't like to talk about it, but the traits still show through some times. Supposedly, the ruling families are descendant of dragons, the way the mythical phoenix people are ruled by the God of Fire."

Ranma made a small noise of disgust. "Yuck. Marrying an animal?"

Fang shrugged. "There are intermarriages between tribes, the animal blood is probably in all of us now. Two of my grandparents came from the Musk Dynasty. They were both alchemists and philosophers, which lends the idea of their ancestors beign powerful mages some credibility."

"Ha! You're probably half duck or something!"

"Laugh while you can, until I turn into a panda and sit on you," Fang threatened mockingly, but the small flicker of recognition on Ranma's face didn't escape her.

They emerged into the sunlight behind the wall, and Fang was a little disappointed to find that it was much like her own village, if more made of stone than wood. For Ranma, the old-fashioned charm had worn off three villages and one curse ago. There was nobody outside, which was a little strange to Fang, but Ranma took it in stride.

They walked into the first store they saw, one that advertised having 'everything' on a sign hanging in the window. The man behind the counter, ironically, was a wide fellow with a lionesque mane of black and white hair, and extremely long fingernails. He grinned ecstatically at the potential customers. **"Hello! I am Shon, purveyor of the curious and the mundane! What may I do for you two fine young ladies?"**

** "Provisions for about twelve days, please."** Fang looked around, then nodded. **"Yes, that will be all."**

**"Are you sure?"** Shon asked, waddling out from behind the counter. **"I have the Byzantine on display, fey power bottled up as a commodity! Any desire you have, I might grant for a price I'm sure such well-to-do persons as yourselves can afford. Food and shelter are for sale, to be sure, but isn't there anything else you wish for?"**

Fang said, **"No,"** at the same time Ranma said, **"Yes."**

Shon looked at her, his eyes twinkling with what Ranma presumed was gluttony, or maybe lust. It was hard to tell with panda-men. "Really?" he asked, switching to Japanese. "And what is that?"

"Do you have a cure for Jusenkyo curses?"

Shon's happy expression fell. "Ah," he lamented, "that may be beyond my capacity to rectify. Fear not!" he exclaimed, seeing Ranma's expression morph into that of a kicked puppy's. "I have something which may suffice. Something that can put you in touch with one who might be able to help you."

He walked into a storage room and came back with a few rucksacks of food and gear, as well as a wooden box. He handed the bags over to Fang, who paid up quickly and fairly ran out the door. Ranma stayed, staring intently at the box. "What is it?" she asked, excited and hopeful. Shon tousled the box, feeling its weight. "Long ago," he said, "an ancestor of mine traveled across the ocean in search of several animal species not native to China. He was convinced that new, improved… ah… _bloodlines_ might give our family an edge. He didn't manage to bring anything back of worth, save this."

The box was completely ordinary as far as Ranma could tell. It didn't even look like the scrolls priests and monks stored training scrolls in, because it was unmarked and, strangely, didn't have hinges. It was certainly hollow from the way Shon held it, but there didn't seem to be a way to access what was inside.

"My great-great-great-great grandfather, on my mother's side, came back with naught but this. Neither he nor his friends, nor even Lord Herb II could force it open, for it was said that this was a great power stolen from the righteous. Since then, nobody in the Dynasty has been able to open it, though many try. I am convinced that it will open only for someone of its homeland, Japan, and perhaps that will be you."

Ranma looked up from the box and squinted at Shon. "Are you one of those stores that's only there for a day, and whatever you sell is underpriced and mucks up my life? I've been to a few of those, you know, and I swear-"

"We have a satisfaction guaranteed policy," Shen proclaimed, mollifying Ranma. "This is my permanent location," he added quietly, but Ranma was already shelling out the required 400 yen, almost all of what she had. Shen handed over the box, and Ranma ran out the door without a backwards glance.

"Glad I got rid of _that_," the panda man said in relief.

XXX

They rented a room in the house of a Musk family before they left, what ended up being the attic of a newlywed Musk couple. Fang made dinner, which the two of them devoured with gusto, and then Fang allowed herself a moment to pray before falling into a light sleep.

Ranma listened to her until she could pick out faint traces of snoring in her breathing, then turned her attention back to the box. She turned it over in her hands, once, twice, endlessly. Her searching eyes ran over every square centimeter of its plain wooden surface, but the box was outwardly a plain wooden cube. When Ranma shook it, however, it emitted a rustle of cloth, or maybe paper. _'Maybe a relic? An artifact?'_ Ranma wondered. She'd heard tales of enchanted weapons and armour, like a dogi that supposedly made the wearer the best they could be. Genma assured his son that such a potent weapon didn't exist, but Ranma couldn't help but ask herself if it did.

Was that what was in the box? Who knew? Ranma sure didn't, and it was driving her crazy. The crickets ceased their chirping, and the moon marched past midnight, but the maddening curiosity that bubbled in her blood refused to let the redheaded martial artist sleep until the strange curio yielded its secrets. A tired yawn escaped her, and suddenly Ranma was aware that it was nearly three in the morning. Fang slept soundly, her fingers tangled in her own hair. Predators with reflective, demonic eyes stalked the forests, hunting small prey.

(A cat yowled, raising a small chorus in reply. It was distant, but Ranma shuddered and whimpered meekly.)

"Damn it," Ranma cursed, at her wits end. The box stubbornly held up against every investigative thief's trick in the Saotome book. In disgust she hurled it at the bedroll, and immediately after regretted it. Fang's eyelids quivered but she didn't awaken. The green-haired Joketsuzoku rolled away from the wooden projectile in her sleep, and Ranma breathed a silent thanks. She reached out to grab the box off of the bed, but the bandages wrapped around her right arm were pulled taut enough by the action to rip her wounds open anew.

Now approaching 'enraged' and feeling an irritating burn spreading from her arms to her hands, Ranma picked up the box. A single drop of blood fell from her outstretched fingers to the magical container, and the world froze. The wind whistled to a stop, the feline cacophony was silenced, and Ranma found herself completely paralyzed. The box, a black stain seeping into the surface, seemed to glow with a dead light. The universe coiled around it, and Ranma watched in fascination as the material was whisked into nothingness, unraveling like a sweater with an errant thread.

The world came to life again, allowing Ranma to stumble forwards eagerly, all fatigue forgotten. Where once an enigma sat, a riddle now took its place. A bound sheet of aged leather, stretched taut to make a scroll. It was rolled into a tight circle, sheathed with a black ribbon that smelled of the ozone before a powerful storm. Trepidation filling her, Ranma steeled herself and picked it up.

As her fingers brushed against the ancient surface, a white spot of light opened in the fabric of reality at head height. The pigtailed heroine fell back; her arms raised the way Anything Goes taught in preparation of a fight. Through the hole came a soft white radiance, followed by a small humanoid figure. It had a bland, featureless face capped by a floppy white hat that may have been a cone before it bent over. It's clothing was a white, formless robe that revealed nothing and loaned it the appearance of a cone.

"Wha-AAA!" Ranma tried to scream, though it came out as a coarse bark. She dropped the scroll and backed away, not noticing that the wooden box never hit the floor. Her breathing was coming in jerky little gasps, and a clinical portion of her mind noted that sleep deprivation and hyperventilation were never a good combination. "Greetings," the androgynous being enunciated in a flat tone. "I am Kirakira, and you-"

Ranma passed out.

XXX

It was still night when she awoke again. The tiny thing calling itself Kirakira was standing in front of her face, looking with concern buried deep in its eyes. Ranma shot from flat on the floor to the ceiling, clinging with her fingernails into the sturdy wood. "What are you?" she demanded hysterically.

"Miss Saotome. I am the guardian of this power, one which you have sought for some time. Should you agree to the conditions of this release, you shall have what you seek."

"What I seek? How do you know what I seek?"

Kirakira inclined its head. "During your attempts to open the case, you repeatedly spoke of a curse. I assume you wish for the power to break its hold over you, and I assure you that it is within the magic's power to do so."

Ranma forgot all of her earlier anxiety almost instantly. "Cool," she said, falling to the floor. She snatched the scroll up from the floor and pulled the ribbon sealing it off with an eager gleam in her eye. The paper rolled out from her hands and kept going until it reached the floor, every inch covered in archaic Japanese kanji. The only break from the black was an inked line at the bottom stretching across the width of the page.

"Is this… a contract?" Ranma asked, looking over at the little creature next to her. It nodded. "Would you like a brief summary?" Ranma nodded.

"Very well. In exchange for unlimited magical potential, the signer hereby agrees to wield said power in the interests of the Yoake family, and to fulfill their prescribed destiny within a period limited to the span of twelve months, after which the aforementioned magical potential may be used for whatsoever the signer wishes indefinitely."

Ranma's mouth was hanging open, a droplet of drool hanging from the corner of her mouth. "Wha?" she asked, the synapses in her brain not firing fast enough.

Kirakira shook its head. "Okay… You get magic, which can cure your curse, in return for a year fighting for the Yoake family."

"Oh?" Ranma muttered. "Yeah, I can do that. Sign me up, buddy."

The genderless sapient wordless pulled out a wickedly sharp knife and handed it to Ranma, who took it without comprehending. "Sign here please, full name."

It dawned on her. "You want me to use blood?" the Saotome demanded, outraged in a distorted, detached sort of way.

"Yes."

She sighed, not really caring about the pain, and neatly sliced open the artery in her forearm. The tip of the knife made scratching noises as the words "Saotome Ranma" were etched into the paper. The contract glowed softly and duplicated, the second form rolling up automatically and disappearing into Kirakira's robe, the second settling on the ground. Whatever she was expecting, be it fanfare or at least a flashy announcement, the signature was followed by stillness. Fang started snoring in earnest.

"That's it?"

"Be patient," Kirakira murmured. "In less than five seconds, you will start to feel an intense discomfort ev-"

"WHAAAAGH!" Ranma screamed, as her entire body erupted in a fountain of blood. A little later, the pain went away, probably because her body couldn't possibly comprehend how every vein and artery adjacent to the skin suddenly ruptured along their lengths, lighting her skin on fire and spilling a liter of blood in scant seconds. The initial shriek of pain awoke Fang, who scrambled out of bed with a Joketsuzoku knife clenched in her hand. When the Chinese girl saw Ranma passed out on the floor, she let out her own shriek of astonishment and leapt to her assistance.

"Holy shit, what happened to you?" she cried, appalled by the state of her charge. Ranma gurgled happily, blood running down her throat and choking off the reply. It would have been nonsensical anyways. Fang pulled out enough disinfectant for a heart transplant surgery and started swabbing Ranma. When that went too slowly, the green-haired healer simply started pouring the foul liquid over Ranma's body, allowing it to leak into her bloodstream.

_'Crap, crap, crap, what do I do? She's lost so much blood… it's a wonder Ranma hasn't kicked it yet. Shit!'_ Fang wiped as much of the blood from Ranma's body as she could to get a look at the original cut, but it appeared to be that nearly every patch of skin had been shredded irreparably. Fang though back to her training under Ko Tsu, but her teacher probably hadn't included a hemorrhage of this magnitude in medic training because it was so spectacularly unlikely.

_'Gotta stop the bleeding,'_ she thought desperately, looking around the room for something, _anything_, _'could I cauterize it? Damn, I have some matches. Just light her on fire, see if that does anything.'_ She giggled, her rationality slowly retreating. _'Yeah, that's what I learned to do for ten years. Set your patients on fire!'_

The blood disappeared. There was no warning, other than a faint buzz in the space between her ears, and Ranma was suddenly pristine. Not only that, but apparently no longer harmed. Fang's ability to think shattered. **"It- it ha- but t- ha! I'm dreaming!"** she declared triumphantly. The disturbed girl wandered back to her bed and flopped drunkenly on her side. **"Damn, I gotta tell Ranma about this tomorrow."**

XXX

Ranma opened her eyes to Fang offering a plate of eggs. "Wake up," the older girl said pleasantly, dropping the food into the Japanese teenager's lap. She caught it precariously and dug in with gusto. "Hey, did you see the scroll?" Ranma asked between mouthfuls.

"Huh?"

"Yeah, I got the box open!" she said, voice muffled by egg. "It had a paper inside it, and this little muppet called Glitter told me to sign it and I'd be a dude again." She frowned. "Wait, that can't be right…" She nudged her left breast with a fork. "Nope. Damn it."

"Whatever," Fang sighed. "Hey, I had this really weird dream last night. You were dying from a cut, but it looked more like torture. I mean, it went over literally every vein in your body! There was blood everywhere…" A faraway look came into her eyes. **"Yeah, it was really creepy…"**

Ranma spewed out a torrent of yellow and white matter, which landed all over Fang. She coughed miserably. "S-sorry," she choked. "I-I was c-c, a-aha, n-nervermind."

Fang raised an eyebrow. "_Really_," she said sarcastically, wiping the regurgitated food off of her shirt. "Moving right along, we have to get out of Musk territory before the week is out, or Shampoo will get suspicious. By now she'll be searching the towns in the south, so our only hope is to get past her in the wilderness. Obviously, you'll have to travel as a boy."

"Obviously. Not like I was born a guy or nothin', it's just convenient."

"Damn straight," Fang said, knocking back a glass of milk. "Get your stuff, we have a grade-A bitch to get past."

"You got that right."

XXX

Kirakira, shortly after the Transfer, went into a careful examination of the life and times of Ranma Saotome, the newest holder of its magic. When it was done, its already white face was decidedly much paler.

"She's a _male_?" Oh dear, this was not good.


End file.
